a dark room, a functioning keyboard,
good songs of leaving and of hurting, and a fifth of tequila:
the quintessence of happiness.
tears come streaming down after glass number three. memories
of those gone—of love unfulfilled, of dead love. come glass number
five, it becomes about the ones that got away, the embraces that remain
pouring glass number seven, the body grows numb, the mind opens up;
insanity may creep in, the desire to reach out to whoever’s out there—
let them know there’s someone still thinking of them.
napalmed bridges hiding under radiation clouds can never
stand again; it’s okay, the eighth glass insists you can
resuscitate even the dead. ninth glass brings out the launch codes
for the nukes to burn down even more bridges.
it’s fine. it’s all right. with a fifth of tequila the world is
conquerable—even the page can be defeated, even though
the words come out harsh and cruel.
drinking fast, writing faster—slowing the world down for a
brief while and it’s all that matters.
George Gad Economou holds a Master’s degree in Philosophy of Science and resides in Athens, Greece, doing freelance work whenever he can while searching for a new place to go. His novella, Letters to S., was published in Storylandia Issue 30 and his short stories and poems have appeared in literary magazines, such as Adelaide Literary Magazine, The Chamber Magazine, The Edge of Humanity Magazine, and Modern Drunkard Magazine. His first poetry collection, Bourbon Bottles and Broken Beds, has been published by Adelaide Books.